


All You Really Need Is Family

by jackstanifold



Series: Of Family and Fear au [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Sleepy Boys Inc
Genre: Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Family Fluff, Good Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Light Angst, honestly, i wanted to write schlatt as a good person, is that really such a crime, no beta we die like wilbur, phil is a good dad, techno is mildly insane, wilbur is a dirty crime boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28022490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackstanifold/pseuds/jackstanifold
Summary: Phil was alone for a long time.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot
Series: Of Family and Fear au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052519
Comments: 26
Kudos: 271





	All You Really Need Is Family

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, obligatory sbi fic here. this is for my other story, of friends and family, but if you don't want to read that, you don't have to (but i would really recommend it). 
> 
> also! there is major character death, but it's not permanent!

Phil was alone for a long time. He wasn’t sure how long, but it was at least long enough for his hair to grow past his shoulders, and for his voice to become scratchy with misuse, and for his eyes to become unused to his reflection. His memories from before the Awakening- from before he woke up under an oak tree with a twisted ankle and a headache- were nonexistent, and he only knew his name because of a little plastic card he’d found in his pocket. He probably would’ve gone insane if he weren't already, the thought of which didn’t scare him as much as it should’ve. The only thing that saved him in the end, he thinks, was the first kid.

He was out fishing, one of the few things he really truly enjoyed anymore, when he heard crying. No, sobbing. He went to investigate, and found the dark haired boy. He was only 7 or so, but as soon as he realized he was being observed, stop crying immediately, shoving a shaky scowl on his face, and yelled “go away!” in an approximation of anger. Phil had laughed, and laughed, and laughed. He wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t entirely surprised to see the boy out there. It’s almost like he’d been expecting him.

The boy couldn’t remember anything either. Phil hadn’t really expected him to, but it still sucked. The kid was angry about it. Phil didn’t think he was ever mad about his situation. Confused, scared, maybe sad, but he couldn’t remember being mad. He watched as the kid punched a tree, and then almost start crying in pain again. The little guy was starting to grow on him. 

Over the next day or two, Phil had discovered three things about the boy. 

One, his name was Wilbur Soot. He didn’t have a plastic card with his name, height, age and eye color on it like Phil had, but he did have a sweater which had his name on the tag. 

Two, his accent was very different than Phil’s. When Phil spoke, his words were shorter, sharper, but they rolled a bit. His voice was softer, and it always sounded like he was about to laugh. Wilbur’s accent was so much rounder, his words longer. His voice was always a little angry, but also a bit sing-songy. It was nice. 

Three, Phil would die for him. At some point, maybe while watching Wilbur sneak through the house in one of Phil’s old cloaks, maybe while watching him wrestle with the dog for his shoe, or while watching him steal bread from the human-like creatures they called villagers, but at some point, Phil had decided that this kid meant more to him than the entire world. 

With human conversation, his mind returned to the sharpened state he hadn’t had for the last few months, and his voice came back full strength, and he started to gain muscles from carrying Wilbur around whenever he got tired. For nearly three years, they lived together, Phil protecting and teaching the kid, and Wilbur helping the man with chores and keeping him from going mad.

Then, the second kid appeared. Phil was in the mines, looking for iron, when he heard movement. Assuming it was just another zombie, or a giant spider, he loosened his sword in its scabbard, but he kept moving. Then, something small darted out, swiping at his legs with a dented and rusted sword.

Instinctively, Phil kicked out, his foot hitting the thing square in the jaw, and he pulled out his sword, pointing it at the wretched creature. At first, he thought it was a baby zombie, but as he squinted in the dim light of his torch, he realised something was off. It wasn’t charging, instead deciding to get back on its feet, moving back with a hiss. 

He paused, then moved forward, holding the torch out. It let out a shriek and shielded it’s eyes. Finally, he could get a good look at it, and he didn’t like what he saw. It was a boy. Young, probably 9 or 10, with impossibly pale skin. His hair, which hung around waist level, was so caked in blood and dirt it was hard to tell what color it was. He wore jeans and a t-shirt but they were so ripped that they qualified more as rags. 

Phil crouched, extending a hand to the boy, who just shrank back even more, blinking his amber, impossibly intelligent eyes at the man, and snarling. It took a long time, and the promise of food, to get the boy to follow him. 

The boy didn’t have a name. He didn’t have any memory before waking up in the caves, although whether he’d been down there months or years, he couldn’t say. Phil started calling him Techno, the name of one of their old pigs, and the boy didn’t argue. It stuck. 

Techno’s voice was far different from the other two. When he spoke, which was rare, his words were short, clipped, and monotone. His accent was squarer than the others, and his pronunciation was weird. He was smart though. He knew more about the world around them than Phil, and he was concerningly good with a sword. He also had a habit of talking to himself, quiet mutters, and little laughs. One day, when Phil was attempting to braid his long, unruly pale blond hair, he asked who he was talking to; he shrugged his shoulders and pointed at his head. Phil never asked again.

He also didn’t sleep. Logically, Phil knew he had to, but at night, while the sky was dark and Wilbur snored in the room the boys shared, he could hear footsteps. The first night it happened, he got up, grabbing his sword, and headed out. Techno stood in the garden, an axe in one hand, and a torch in the other. He walked from the garden, to the barn, to the treeline, to the ender portal, then back to the garden. As Phil watched, he realised what it was. The boy was patrolling. He was keeping them safe. 

Phil didn’t sleep that night. He lay in bed, listening for the boy to come back in. He never did. When the sun came out, he went out to find the boy slumped against the barn. Worried that the kid had gotten hurt, he rushed over. The boy looked up, fully conscious, fully aware of his surroundings, and frowned at the man in confusion. “'s somethin’ wrong, mister?”

Phil smiled a bit, his heart still pounding. “No. No, everything’s ok, Techno.”

It was on one of these patrols that he found the third boy. Wilbur burst into Phil’s room, shouting for him to come downstairs. Phil complied, still half asleep and confused by the sudden noise. In the living room, Techno was crouched over a small unconscious boy. As soon as Phil let out a shocked gasp, he stumbled back, his hands flying to his sword, and he growled as Phil got closer.

He was protecting the kid. 

Phil raised his hands. “It’s ok, Techno. It’s me. It’s Phil.”

Techno stopped snarling, but continued to watch the man very carefully as he inspected the boy. He couldn't've been more than 5, and he was very obviously new, if his pristine clothes and shiny nails meant anything. He was soaking wet, though, and Phil assumed Techno had fished him from the river. He didn’t have any obvious wounds, and his pulse and breathing were normal, so Phil assumed the sleeping was part of whatever magic brought them here.

He carried the boy up to Techno and Wilbur’s room, telling them to share Techno’s bed for the night, so he could put the boy in Wilbur’s bed. He looked through the boy’s pockets first, finding a little clear bag with two shiny circles in it. Written on one of them was “Happy Birthday, Tommy”. He filed away the name, and put the bag beside the boy’s body.

The next morning, he woke up to a lot of screaming. He burst into the room, finding the little boy, Tommy, wide awake and huddled in the corner of a room, letting out blood curdling shriek after blood curdling shriek. Wilbur was standing in front of him, trying to grab him and shut him up, but he kept having to step back to avoid getting pummeled. Techno stared at Phil with wide eyes, his hand shaking a bit and his chest heaving in terror. 

Wilbur let out a frustrated shout and backed off, turning to notice the older man for once. “Help me!”

Phil did. He gently pushed Wilbur onto the bed next to Techno, and got down, sitting across from the boy. The kid stopped screaming, his pale blue eyes, so similar to Phil’s in color and shape, narrowed. He was chubby, with fluffy blonde hair that curled up at the ends. He looked a bit like a baby chicken. As soon as the thought popped into Phil’s head, he started laughing, and the boy’s expression went from suspicion to anger. “Whadd’re you laughing at, old man?!”

At this, Phil started laughing harder, then, after a bit Tommy joined him. Behind him, he thought he heard Techno chuckle a little, then Wilbur started snickering. 

After a minute or so, the room quieted down, and Phil offered his hand to the boy and introduced himself. The boy, predictably, couldn’t remember his name, or anything, really, but when Phil mentioned the circles, his face lit up. He did like the name Tommy, apparently, although he wanted to be called ‘Big Man’, a nickname that Wilbur scoffed at, which sparked a small argument over whether ‘Wilbur’ was a dumb name or not.

Techno just watched, his eyes no longer the size of dinner plates. When he saw Phil looking at him, he smiled a little at the older man. Things were going to be alright, Phil thought.

Tommy was woken up by nightmares, for the first week or so. Phil would be woken up by screaming, stumble out of bed and rush to the boys’ room, to hug the little guy, and rock him back to sleep, before putting Wilbur back to bed, and reassuring Techno when the oldest boy came rushing back inside. One night, the screams died before he got there, though, and when he pushed open the door, he found Techno laying beside Tommy, arms wrapped protectively around him. Tommy was already asleep, huddled against Techno’s armored chest. 

Techno stopped going on patrols after that, instead choosing to cuddle Tommy until the kid was asleep, and then protecting him from any nightmares that might threaten him. One night, after not hearing a peep from any of the boys, Phil checked in on them, finding Wilbur fast asleep in his bed, and Techno and Tommy in Tommy’s, both completely conked out. Tencho snored a bit, he noticed, feeling something in his heart warm at the revelation.

Wilbur and Techno had always gotten along. Wil was a schemer, and Techno was a doer, and they both seemed to like chaos a bit too much. They were friends, and brothers, but the arrival of Tommy seemed to change something in them.

Suddenly, Wilbur was too concerned whether Tommy had fed the chickens, or used the last hot water, or eaten his slice of cake to scheme. He started complaining about the younger boy to Phil, and arguing with him over everything, and picking on him every chance he got, but he cared. He said he didn’t, he said he thought the kid was dumb and wasting his time, but every time Tommy slept through breakfast, he’d bring up a plate of food. Every time he caught the boy staring at the discs, he’d offer to take him fishing. Every time the child got in trouble with the villagers, he’d take the blame for it.

Techno, on the other hand, relaxed. He taught the boy to use an axe, and how to grow vegetables, and how to ride a horse. Phil watched him sleep in, and laugh more, and one day, after messing around in the woods all morning, he started talking, telling the story of how he found a bird, and Phil could do nothing but beam at the boy, as he said more in thirty minutes than he had in seven months.

Tommy looked up to the others. That was obvious from the way he would toddle around after Techno, and check for Phil's approval after everything, and wilt when Wilbur called him an idiot. He liked his little family, so he was reasonably upset when the last boy appeared and shook things up. 

Wilbur was around 13 when he started walking down to the village every day to trade and seek work. He liked bringing things home to the family. He liked the praise Phil gave him when he came back with a potion or a book. However, he'd never brought home a person before.

This one was different. He wasn't confused, or scared, or angry. He smiled at Phil, and shook his hand and looked around. He'd been living in their world for a while, if the shoddy robes were anything to go by, but his weird cap with the brim in the front very much marked him as an outsider, like them. He was around the same age as Techno and Wilbur, but seemed so much older.

His name was Schlatt, and he was a traveler, he explained. 

His voice was similar to Techno's, accent wise. Square words, with sharp ends, and sudden cuts. He spoke differently though. Techno spoke rarely, saying wise things out of nowhere, then going quiet with nothing more to add, but Schlatt spoke in speeches, his words polished and smooth. 

Wilbur was in love.

Not romantically, of course, but something in his eyes when he watched the boy talk reminded Phil of the way Techno watched the stars, or the way Tommy watched Wilbur when the boy first sang for the family. The face of someone who just discovered magic. Wilbur was in love with Schlatt's confidence, and his grin, and his words. Not romantically, but still love nonetheless.

Phil liked Schlatt. He was funny, and reliable, and told stories that made him smile. Techno didn't mind him, but he was very much not used to that much… muchness, and he would often send Phil panicked glances when working with Schlatt. Tommy was the only one who didn't like him. 

He would glare at the boy when he and Wilbur hung out, and would try to pick fights. To Schlatt's credit, he'd never take the bait. He'd smile at the eight year old and walk away. That pissed Tommy off more. It might've gone on like that forever, with Tommy hating Schlatt, and Schlatt ignoring Tommy, but then It happened. 

The whole family was out fishing, and Tommy was glaring at Schlatt. He said something mean, and Schlatt ignored him, and he got madder. And then he pushed him. There was a moment where Phil saw the look of terror on Schlatt's face, and the rage on Tommy's, and then Schlatt was under water. And he wasn't surfacing. 

Wilbur shrieked at Tommy, "He can't swim, you dumbass!" Then he jumped in after his best friend. Tommy stared at the river, then at Phil, his eyes wide. Phil didn't have anything to say, so he just stared back. Techno took no time for panic, rushing to the treeline to grab a stick to reach out to the boys. Wilbur surfaced with Schlatt on his back and started swimming. 

They almost made it. 

They were only a few feet away. 

Drowned are formidable foes. Zombies under the water, with tridents and nets, of course they're enough to scare anyone, but there's something so much scarier than being killed by one, and that's watching one spear two of the boys you've fought for, and cared for, and lived for, right through the hearts. Wilbur's eyes fixed on Phil's, then they rolled back in his head, and he and Schlatt went under.

Tommy let out a scream and started running to the water, feet slipping on the muddy rocks, but Phil grabbed him, forcing himself to look away from the two young bodies bobbing with the current as he hugged the small boy. Techno joined them after a bit. They were all crying, Phil thought, but he couldn't really bring himself to care about looking strong for the children.

They huddled together for a while, until the sky got dark, when Phil picked up Tommy and took Techno's hand, and they started to walk back.

They were almost on the porch when Phil realized something was off. There was smoke coming from the chimney, and the air smelled of cooked beef. Phil and Techno exchanged glances, and drew their swords, and then they walked in.

Schlatt looked up from the table, and Wilbur turned around from the pot of stew he had on the fire. "Hey." 

That was the day they discovered it was possible to respawn. It was also the day Schlatt decided to leave. 

"It's your little family, Phil. You, Wilbur, Techno and Tommy? You need each other. I'm just passing through." He smiled sadly at the man, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I'll visit. I swear."

Wilbur cried into Phil's pillow that night, and he let him. Tommy snuck into his room at midnight, muttered something about a nightmare and curled himself into Phil's side. Techno joined, wrapping his arms around Wilbur and holding him as though making sure he wasn't going anywhere. Phil fell asleep with his sons at his sides, and his heart still heavy with loss.

Schlatt told the truth. He did visit. Once every other month, he would appear with small gifts, and stories. Stories of villagers, trading junk for treasure, found tidbits for hand crafted wonders. Stories of lands far over the horizon, of oceans and forests and jungles. Stories of people, like them, who woke up with no memory, and built lives for themselves out of nothing.

Over time, though, Schlatt would show up later in the month, and leave sooner. He grew quieter, and his stories grew darker. He spoke of war. Of hunger. Of having to lie, cheat, and steal to survive.

His last visit, he was 16. He showed up late at night, nearly midnight, and fell asleep on the couch. He was silent through breakfast, and after helping feed the cows, he grabbed his bag and started to leave. Wilbur followed him.

Phil couldn't hear what they were fighting about from inside the house, but it was bad, whatever it was. Schlatt had never raised his voice, especially not at Wilbur. Finally, Wilbur screamed something at him and they both went silent. Phil sat there, waiting for something, anything, but there was nothing but silence. Wilbur came inside after a while, running straight to his room, and screaming at Tommy to get out. Tommy did, staring at the door when it slammed before him. Phil felt something in his gut twist.

Wilbur missed dinner that night. 

When Techno and Wilbur were 18, and Tommy was 13, Techno decided to leave. He didn't say where he was going- Phil didn't think he knew- but he grabbed his favorite horse, and he grabbed his armor, and he slung a sword onto his back, and he galloped away.

Phil missed the oldest more than he'd expected he would. He missed his sudden burst of energy that resulted in him running around the farm at fuck-it o'clock in the morning, and the way he called himself the human gps every time he managed to to find his way to the barn at night, or the way he would laugh at Tommy's rage at being called a baby. Techno had always been his favorite, not that the man would ever admit it, though that might be because one simple fact.

Techno was the first to call him dad.

Wilbur left soon after. He'd matured so much over the years, reading books he got from villagers and learning to brew incredible potions that could do magic. He wasn't as impulsive, and he had mellowed out a lot. 

He left in the middle of the night, to keep Tommy from following. Apparently, it didn't work. Tommy's bed was empty the next morning, and Techno's fastest horse was long gone.

Phil was alone again. For the first few months, he had hope. Hope that his sons would come home. Hope that everything would be ok.

It took a whole year for the hope to dwindle, and another for it to fade completely. He went back to his dormant phase. He fulfilled the tasks expected of him. He stopped speaking. He ate raw vegetables and sour bread. Without his boys, nothing mattered.

After three years of solitude, of loneliness, he felt something. Something like molten lava. He had to find them.

He knew where to go. 

He didn't know how.

He used his Elytra, magical wings he strapped onto his back, a gift from Schlatt years ago, and he soared through the air, following his heart.

He landed in a city. It looked empty, but he heard cheering from town square.

On a whim, he walked away from it, down a dark alley, down a narrow flight of stairs, and down a long hallway.

And there, he saw his son.

"Wil. What're you doing."

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god i wasted so much of my life on this, please leave comments hrnnng.


End file.
